


A Time

by Jerena



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, Four chapters within every upload, Mage!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13771476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerena/pseuds/Jerena
Summary: A young woman finds herself in a place which is not home and magic is rampant. (Mage!AU by askproject-t on tumblr)





	1. CH 1-4

**Author's Note:**

> //I happen to have many fleeting thoughts that wander to several AU's. This just so happens to be one of them.

Droning. Then more.

That was what it mostly felt like every single day.

Wake up, eat, contemplate on leaving the home, sometimes deciding against it. Then just sitting there on the couch staring at the plastic faces procured with just as artificial light. There was no concern on whether they were honest or not. Most channels hardly offered anything genuine.

Then eating again and finally sleep.

And repeat.

For any regular human being this would come about as a bit problematic. However, was she really a human? What exactly could a person categorize this secluded creature. A woman of twenty-eight spending her waning years cooped up in a more than adequate apartment? Perhaps a hermit. Maybe not even human at all.

She could really care less. She was an empty shell; a vessel. There was nothing more she could possibly do in a time she was sure she should not have existed. A curse even. It was no matter, however.

Occasionally a few people, who considered her enough as more than an acquaintance, would sometimes eject her from her home to have her partake in... Well, let it be put lightly as ‘asinine activities’. Deep down she would enjoy them but really. All she wanted to do was remain indoors.

One day this was not the case.

She awoke. This time she ate something other than dry flakes. But then she stood at her bedroom door, hand centimetres away from the handle. Did she want to return within? Did she want to melt under the covers into black dreams once more? There was some hesitation before she eventually opened the door, closing it behind her.

And she was rustling through her wardrobe. She chose not to go for her usual unassuming attire, which consisted of a huge, dull coloured sweater with a big collar and dark grey pants. Instead, she chose a blue T-shirt and regular jeans. She slipped a pair of sneakers on her feet before she began to stuff random necessities within a purse her roommate purchased for her. How he knew she would appreciate it was beyond her but hey. He was her roommate for a reason.

He usually left early in the morning, so it was something of an occasion if they were in the same room. And one of those times was when he handed her the yellow satchel while saying something about it reminding him of her. She could have vomited on the spot from the sincerity of the gesture.

She was soon out of the congested abode and marching down several stairs, opting not for the elevator and was in the French streets of Île-de-France in no time. Where to go was another debacle.

She could visit the little lady who provided her with the apartment, all the while meeting up with a ‘best friend’. But really the shenanigans that happen in their domain, including the actual occupants of the home, were something she tried to avoid often. Very much often.

There were others she could visit but she would have to call them. She was in no way a person who showed up on another’s doorstep, despite it being half true. She dug into her pocket and got out her phone as she walked by several shops at the sidewalk, proceeding to consider her options.

Which were plentiful yet still so limited.

At some point she stopped walking. She felt nauseous as her head began to spin, causing her to lurch forward a bit, clutching her stomach as if it would stop from bringing up whatever contents it so desperately wanted to expel. Then it stopped. She lifted her head to find her eyes had shut from the unexpected sensations.

So, she opened them.

Only to find a scene that was unfamiliar to her. She was no longer in the streets of a French town. In fact, she had no idea on where she was.

All she could tell was that she was currently near a harbour of sorts, with people walking about on their own business, with fishermen either tying their boats at the docks or heading out to catch that day's haul. Some people were dressed in clothes she hardly recognized yet at the same time were so familiar to her. Perhaps someone else was feeling a sense of familiarity...

"Madame, you shouldn't be standing right in the path of others," a voice spoke from behind, causing her to whip around to see a man dressed just like everyone else around her.

The outfit really would have been screaming at anyone from the modern day. He seemed to have been taken aback by her own as well, as did the other passers-by. Receiving so much attention was rather unnerving enough as it was, so she quickly muttered an apology, to which the man simply chuckled.

"It is quite alright, madame,"

"I am not called madame," she curtly replied.

"Well that is a surprise, why the thought of someone of your stature not having been taken by another is quite appalling!" his brows raised.

Of her stature? Taken? What the hell was this ninny on about? Either way, it bothered her immensely.

"I hardly believe that I look like some trophy for one to claim as his own," her face was blank as she looked up at the stranger.

Yet he took on a smile that would have made her skin crawl were she not accustomed to such demeanours. She simply walked past him, trying to find anyone else who would at least help her out of the predicament she was in now. All the while she was, surprisingly, unaware of the pair of eyes lingering after her.

CH 2

Had she not the composure of one of the stone gargoyles she had seen on a nearby building, she would have been screaming by now. She had entered a shoppe of sorts to find a more agreeable individual to chat with. She was a timid lady who looked strikingly familiar, yet she chose not to mention it.

The lady told her she was in a place called Remington, which she could only pinpoint as being in the Americas. Now many questions were flooding her head. How in the blue hell did she end up in such a place? And in such a time frame no less? The echoes of the calls from her bed were resounding at this point.

"Miss, it seems you are not from around here," the lady perked up, pulling her out of her little inner spiel. "Do you perhaps go by a name?"

"You tell me, butters," she blew a strand of white hair out of her face, leaving the poor woman confused.

She could not blame her. Anyone in that time seeing a young woman in a shirt that revealed even the slightest cleavage, jeans and _those_ shoes would raise too many speculations. Even her hair was out of place there; black with two white locks framing her face.

"I do beg your pardon?"

"I go by... Tacitus," she finally muttered. Saying her name was just T would have put her off more than she already was.

Besides, that was her 'real' name after all.

Tacitus Thadeus.

"Would that not be a Sir's title, miss?" the lady pried.

"Should it matter?" And this statement made the other chuckle, surprisingly.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," she had a hand to her mouth, as if to halt such an unladylike gesture.

T truly was in the possible 1800's.

"Would you perhaps like me to offer you clothes more befitting? I could not help but notice that everyone here is captured by your current wear," she waved hesitantly at her entire physique.

"Usually I’m not concerned with what others think of me," T shrugged. "But I guess I could entertain your offer,"

The woman clapped her hands together in warm glee before gliding off to find something suitable. Which took a while. T did not want to feel congested so the first dress with an incredibly suffocating collar was not going to work. The next dress' sleeves were entirely too long. The same can be said for the skirts of some other dresses. And she was not about to start with the mantuas, nor the corsets; they fit her yes, but she did not enjoy their purpose.

Why in the world were they created? They caused such jarring changes in women’s bodies overtime as they were worn, at least that was what it felt like to her given the type of work she did. She was no expert on clothes.

She eventually settled for a plain brown dress. A very,  _very_  familiar white and brown dress. This dress had an unfortunate corset with it, but it surprisingly fit comfortably on her visage. It was white with the string tied in a bow right at where most of her chest was visible. The frills of the dress, as well as the sleeves ending above her wrist, were white as well.

"Truly stunning, Miss," the shopkeeper smiled as T took in her new attire in the slightly dirty mirror.

The woman knew better, however. A prostitute of their times could own this type of dress, yet the woman was clearly going along with whatever T wanted, so long as she chose something to wear. Once the woman was back behind the makeshift counter T quickly picked up her belongings and dashed off without a word. She did not have anything to pay anyone here with after all.

As she ran, she overheard strange titbits of information along her road to anywhere. Apparently, a mage or something of the sort lived within the woods far from here, possessing strange powers that, as far as she could process, were both miraculous as well as horrid.

Just like her, to some extent. Perhaps this person held her answers as to why she was in this timeframe? Maybe even the very reason.

She felt bad for leaving that poor woman hanging but what else could T do. She was on a mission for the future. However, at this point she was meandering about, not really in a rush to meet this mage, mostly because she still had a feeling of uneasiness. She had finally sensed that she was being watched.

CH 3

She decided to go to a local inn for the time being. Luckily, townspeople were relatively hospitable, and they allowed for tenants to pay once their stay was over. Again, T did not have the required currency to pay for a thing for the moment, so she was planning yet again to run off if necessary. Hopefully when she went out, she did not need to return and was back in her real apartment.

T did not particularly feel any way when it came to her present actions. Yes, it was not morally correct to run off from paying for something, but she did not plan to stay. She knew she was not about to stick around to be ushered into this village's way of life. She was going to return to the present.

She was soon back out in the public, asking around for the so called 'mage'. But each time she tried to weasel something out of someone, they would dance around her questions before quickly scurrying off. She was contemplating on eavesdropping once more, but she wanted solid information, not gossip.

Perhaps she could ask the children? They usually spoke truthfully about interesting topics.

However, they mostly shared rumours it seemed. One prim girl said that he was a terrifying monster, responsible for any misery that befell the town. One boy with way too many mud stains on his overalls said he was incredible, saying that he was responsible for the odd landscape outside of the town, or so his friends told him.

Just more fanciful tales and not enough intel. It was beginning to get tiresome.

T soon found herself sitting near a river that ran a ways between the town and the woods. She was tempted to wade through the water but simply kept her feet submerged.

This was not working out. She was also sure that there was no other civilization she could go to inquire about the mage, and if there was, one would only arrive there in a few days. She could consider making such a trip, but she really wanted to leave.

And there was another issue. What if this mage was just a hoax? What if it was all a ploy to create a boost in tourism for the town? It was quite the basic kind of livelihood and bringing in goods must cost them fortunes. Still, it was a shitty move. Especially for someone who is in desperate need of-

_Enter the woods_

Her head snapped up.

There was no one around. Was she finally slipping away into an eddy of despair?

The words sounded again, and she was on her feet. She quickly assessed the area to confirm that yes, not a soul was there. Or maybe she just could not see _them_.

The lulling ricochet did not return for a while, and T was about to head back to the inn.

She exhaled heavily before making for the shrubbery across the river, and into the woods.

 

The woods were quite thick, the only clear thing about it being the winding, man-made path. The rest of the environment were dead leaves, moss and fallen trees. T had forgone shoes; a common mistake... if you were indoors. How she could forget something as programmed as putting shoes on was beyond her. But she was more civil than having to add footwear on her list of theft.

She walked for some time, passing the occasional clearing. Just how deep were these woods? One could easily pin it as a forest more than anything. She would come across a few creatures of varying size, all of which the world, or so the internet, would depict. But then she came across some things that did not appear so earthly. In fact, some almost appeared to be hybrids.

Really, they were too strange to give a proper description; at best some had purple flesh or had too many eyes. Some even looked like two animals that were put into horrid combinations, such as a frog and a bird, or a deer and a badger.

These abnormalities did not deter the woman. It certainly did enough for the villagers to never dare to go near the place, however. Curiosity was what encouraged her to keep going anyway.

A concrete structure soon came into view, just beyond a few misplaced slabs of the same kind of material jutting from the ground. She only acknowledged they were there as she continued to approach the building. It was decorated in ornate cloths with specific patterns: all with at least one of the same kind of symbol. A strange smiley with six spokes jutting from it. For some reason, she began to feel wary.

She was soon standing before the wooden door of the place. Smoke was emitting from a thin chimney-like pipe at one side, so she knew it was inhabited. She had to collect herself first. Why, she was still unsure. Nothing was wrong, really. However, the intimidating thought of a mage that was feared by an entire village possibly residing within the walls of this grey building... was not pleasant. T was not one who enjoyed getting involved in others' problems or conflicts.

Really, whatever happened would have happened. She did not even bother to knock as she opened the door, however cautiously. What awaited within almost had her stricken with awe. All around were what appeared to be glass cubes encasing some different object: plants, tree bark, animalistic teeth or horns. The floor was a dark, bamboo wood that was varnished to the point that it was almost black and new, despite the odd plank jutting out here and there.

Speaking of the floor, it was covered with a few thin, intricate cloths. The same went for some of the walls. Again, some had that smile symbol, but she opted to remain oblivious and take in more of the interior. There were rocks and crystals on a table near a window with some parchment papers stacked close to them. The floor was also littered with these papers, all with the same black scrawl.

She then stopped.

Her hand was resting on her thigh in no time once she saw something move. She turned slowly and glanced at another table. She nearly cursed.

On the table was a quill in an inkwell and more papers, all neatly placed beside another glass cube containing a beating heart. Yes, she was not going senile yet. It was a real and encased human heart. She approached the quivering thing, fascination bound to make anyone else ill. Well. Maybe not anyone.

" _Breaking and entering is a felony_ ," a gravelly, disembodied voice said close by.

T did not dare to turn around. It would satisfy the smug undertone of that statement, and she was sure of it.

"Maybe you have not been taught the proper etiquette, Miss Stranger,"

She could feel the breath on her ear, but she knew there was no one behind her. Suddenly, everything felt cold, the air was unbearably stifling, and the skin was beginning to crawl. She tried raising her hand. It was fruitless. She was on the unforgiving floor in no time. T could only remember the silhouette.

Looming.

 _Leering_.

CH 4

The blackness was not something she particularly enjoyed. For one, it was not of her doing. Any other form of darkness and she would be very open towards it, but this one did not sit well. She then decided it was time to open her eyes, and nearly felt bilious at the scene before her.

It appeared she was hanging upside down, the black and green smiley carpet below staring mockingly up at her. How could she be so high up? She tried to turn her head, but it was difficult. She also felt restricted at the limbs. Well that was to be expected for trespassing. However, her hands and feet did not feel shackled at all.

They were beside her, in fact.

An arm and a leg on either side of her head. Her torso? Possibly nearby. The whole charade was sickening. She was somehow suspended above the floor of a lunatic's home. And parted from all important parts of her body. It was hard to keep her cool in a situation she unfortunately caused upon herself. But to still be alive while being disembodied and stuck to a ceiling? It was not on her list of expected casualties.

"I was beginning to believe that you had really died," the voice was back.

She sneered subtly as her eyes scanned the room, in attempts to locate the wise guy. It appeared to be for storage, with several parchment scrolls and barrels stacked against walls. There were also crates and more of those transparent cubes atop them. And then a door. With a figure darkening the entryway.

He was dressed in black. Practical, but cliché. The high collar cloak he was wearing had again, the smiley symbol, but with yellow spots accenting it. The sleeves of his shirt ended at the dorsal of his dark hands. At least on the one she could see, which had a lax grip on a wooden, elaborate staff. His belt had holders keeping vials and mini containers in place.

His face was stoic and uninterested, but not unamused. His piercings glinted in what light was provided from the two windows of the furthest wall.

"Perhaps from the initial shock of being found so quickly," he inspected the hand on the staff. "Perhaps from the realisation of your situation? I was not sure, though it would be a humorous tale to recall,"

She scowled. How could he be so frivolous in such a macabre situation? His taste in fun, maybe. As a matter of fact, it just so happened to be in her interests as well.

"Perhaps it would?" T made an unconscious attempt at a shrug. "But I was rather tired, I suppose I needed the sleep. Though, you seem to need it more,"

His eyes nearly squinted, and she chuckled inwardly.

"You don't seem perturbed in the slightest,"

"I've experienced worse,"

"Is that so,"

"I wouldn't have wasted breath if I did not," he tittered at this before pacing around.

"You are a smart one,"

"Then you're definitely the smartest,"

He halted in his step. Did the little chat grow boring for him? No. This was blatant entertainment for the mage. By now it was clear he was _that_ mage. The hand that was hidden was now on his hip, his gaze to the floor.

"I must say, Miss Stranger," he started. "This is a rather interesting development,"

"What do you want from me?" she demanded simply, growing tired of this little game.

"Whatever implied it?"

"I am still alive,"

His smile was gone, eyebrows raised but sullen eyes still calculating. He was beneath her now, looking up with that gaze. She could only look back with her own empty pools. This little stare down went on for a while before there was a knock at the door. It made him freeze up. T did not think it were possible for him. He seemed like a collected individual. What could possibly make him stop?

He turned and left her alone, and all she was left with was silence. She could not hear what was happening in whatever room that knock came from. Maybe he did not have many guests? At least, those who knocked. After some time, a shadow passed one of the windows, slowly gliding towards the next.

And then it was gone. It made her incredibly uneasy. And that was no good sign. The mage returned soon after, and even he appeared shaken. He was frowning as his eyes were closed, creases on his forehead beginning to form.

"Who was that," she spoke up, and he sent a dirty look her way.

"Silence,"

She complied, but only for the moment. He appeared to fish around the innards of his cloak for a bit, his hand seeking purchase on some object. Once he found it, he brought it out and held it out casually for her, and she knew exactly what it was.

Her heart.

Beating in his filthy hand.

"To think that you remain so calm even with a vital organ within possessions not of your own," he said, lifting the thing a little higher to eye level. "Remarkable,"

"This is disgusting," she admitted.

"I know," he smiled.

He then put it out of sight and was back to pacing around the carpet. It did not appear he finalised what he planned to do with her. T just hoped he would hurry on. It was becoming irritating as each grating minute passed with nothing being said, nothing being concluded. She really was beginning to become sicker being stuck where she was. She began to wonder... was it possible? Even if she was not connected to her torso...

A sharp tap against the wooden floor brought her from her disturbing thoughts.

"I believe I have come to a final decision," the man addressed.

"And what would that be?" she said before gasping.

The room suddenly felt stifling as her head flipped in the air from the ceiling and into his hand, a suffocating, blue hue having taken over the room. Why was he taking her down now?

His fingers were cold, hostile. She was not exactly disgusted with them resting on her being, but she did not want to be anywhere near him. His eyes were just as frigid. Determined.  _Clouded_. This mage was not easy to read at all, and perhaps he trained himself so that no one ever could.

.

.

"You will make up for invading my dwelling by working for it," he said clearly. "Your very existence will be a tool if I am in need. Be prepared,"

He rested her head on a stool before exiting the room, the door giving off a sound click. She could only stare at the barrier before her now, and not long after did she find herself sighing.

"His eye-bags were definitely not pleasant,"


	2. CH 5-8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //My arm kinda hurts from drawing but here we are.

CH 5

Her head hurt, and badly at that.

And if the cold hard surface she was against was not enough of a clue on what was going on then nothing else would. She looked around now, sure that too much time had passed for her liking. She had at least been right about something; her torso was also on the roof. Oh, was that a sight not to behold, your body cut from you and plastered onto a wooden ceiling. She wondered if she could move them, and quite surprisingly they did, but they did not fall.

She wondered if the fall  _her head_  made from the short stool next to her was adding to the daze of sleep. She could hear chuckling from outside the room, and instantly her brows were frowning. The mage must have seen her in the pitiable state she was in earlier on and must have come to check on her once more. Well, she was awake now at least, so it was best to get the hellish day he had in store for her over with.

"The floor has taken your interest, has it?" the slimy tone he carried was already something she grew to hate as his feet came into view.

Her head was off the ground in an instant, his fingertips deftly moving aside stray hairs from her face. He even held her head out, seemingly to get a better look at her. What for, she did not know.

He was infuriating. T even chose not to say anything now out of spite, and to her relief it cut his fun short. An eyebrow of his twitched once before he made the room stifling again and suddenly, she was toppling on the floor once more, though she was somehow able to... brace herself?

What?

"Take the garb I acquired for you," he muttered as he made haste to leave like last time but left the door open. "You have work you know,"

T rubbed her elbow once she sat up, looking beside her to see a pile of black cloth. Again, predictable colours. She stood up and lifted whatever it was to look at it. Surprisingly, it was only a cloak. She thought it was going to be much worse, but all the same she was glad it was only this.

One would wonder why she had not tried to run away by now considering she was put back together. Firstly, he was much too casual about the situation. He also seemed sure of himself that she could not get away. Why would she want to make more of a fool of herself by trying to escape already? Though she was like a headless chicken earlier, it did not mean she was about to act like one. Secondly, her apathy levels were reaching their peak, so her position was hardly affecting her. Was it enough to say she was cool in such a dire time, or just absurd?

Her body also felt compelled to obey him. Perhaps he put something on her? At this point it was an obvious conclusion.

T only shook her head now that she was granted movement again and finally put on the cloak. It was musty and uncomfortable. She noted the design on the cloak’s front was beginning to fade before moving out of the room. The stench of herbs was overpowering as she exited the hallway she was in, walking into the room she first entered and possibly this man's work area. The texture of parchment and carpets was felt beneath her feet, showing that he did not bother to clean up much.

He was already at one of the tables, hastily moving a pen across one of the unrolled sheets of increasingly long papers. His frustration clung to the air, and because of who she was, she could easily tell. She patted at the cloak which covered the dress she wore, the cloth ending all the way down at her bare ankles.

What could he be writing? Was she the cause of his frustration? Had they met normally the other day, would he be any different? She did not know.

"I know you are not going to simply stand there and stare for the entire day, right?" his piercing gaze cut her once she made eye contact.

Only the side of his face was visible as he watched her from across the room. His legs appeared too long on his person, and his position on the short stool did not look comfortable as he sat huddled over the table. He almost appeared hunchback the way he was.

"Clean this room," he waved a hand as he went back to his writing, signalling for her to get started.

T held herself back from groaning before she went to do as he asked. Was this really what she was reduced to? In some ways she was already a servant. A servant for a being that did not treat its subjects well. A being that resided within her no less. It was the reason for her current appearance as well as why she even existed; it helped to blend amongst humans and not to raise suspicions. However, she had gained a semblance of independence and had strayed from her initial purpose. Hence why she shuffled around at home most of the time, if not all of it.

At the very least she kept her home tidy compared to this place. Each time she moved papers out of the way she just discovered more to clean, including ink stains and whatever that strange substance was that was smeared into more that one of the carpets. Just what did this person do in his time here?

She could hardly complain; she had to atone for doing him wrong in some way. She did breach his domain after all, so until she was done here, only then would she be free. And oh, how she longed for that. Freedom was something a person like her needed. What he was doing was against everything she stood for. She nearly wished for someone to help her out of these predicaments, but in the end, she had no one. It almost made her pout at her frustrations.

"Supplies can be found further down the hall," he spoke up after she cleared the floor.

She dusted her hands together once she was standing again, and she gave a huff before moving along. It really was such a dark hallway, but for the mage it seemed that the light of midday was enough for his home. She turned a few corners before finding a wooden door ajar. Inside was a broom and boxes, so she guessed this was his storeroom. Upon her stepping in a candle lit aflame. Possibly enchanted? What did she know, she was no magic user.

Her eyes glanced around for one swift moment before landing on something.

A head of a man.

Sitting within a glass case.

CH 6

Her eyes remained fixed upon the unmoving body part, unsure if it even had eyes to look back at her with. It was wearing a pair of sunglasses after all, too dark to show what they were hiding. It was hard to tell the hair colour as well, seeing as the orange light the candle flickered made the hair appear about the same colour. A flat hat of some sort donned the head from what she can tell, but it seemed heavily personalised. She could not really tell what it was supposed to resemble.

Normally seeing such a thing would have struck anyone with deep fear and confusion. T however, as a reminder, was not normal. She was hardly human after all. But she was beginning to lay down several questions like one would. Such as why was there a head on display in a case? And why was it in this room? A storeroom no less, perfectly set in the middle of the room upon a red cushion. Was it aesthetic? A trophy?

Furnishing?

"So, do you plan on staring at me all day?" a voice sounded soon after.

It made her eyes twitch wide for a second. It came from the head, obviously. It even had an eyebrow raised.

"That's the second time I've heard that line," she muttered, recalling the mage's earlier comment.

"I'm not surprised," the head cocked to one side, as if it were not detached from its body at all.

"So, you are alive?"

"This ain’t a run-off-the-mill magic show you're seeing, woman," the tone was almost condescending.

"I believe I’m aware, for I've experienced it myself," she said sharply, making the head flinch.

"What now then?" it smiled nervously. "What plans do you have?"

"I came for this," she held up the broom nonchalantly, and the head rose its brow again.

"The archmage is hiring maid service now?" it questioned. "Usually he would just make one of us do it. Unless... you aren't doing this willingly, ain't ya?"

There it was. It seemed this head knew _a_   _lot_  more than it was willing to let on, but unconsciously did anyway. It was acquainted with the mage was what she concluded, perhaps very well. Was it human though, because it did not seem very frightened by its current situation. In fact, it seemed tired and wanted to be free like she did. Her eyes were lingering on the display again, and the head took note of course.

"Forget about it," she looked up. "You touch this case, and you'll get us both into some serious trouble, and I'm sure you don't want that, right?"

"How did you know, eh?" T feigned with a barely noticeable hint of mock ignorance.

"It appears you lot are getting along famously," that familiar voice was close yet again, and T's grip on the broom tightened once she turned her view back to the mage.

"I wouldn't say that," the head said from inside the glass.

"Why do I get the nagging suspicion that you have spoken too much?" the man's eyes were darker, and the head flinched more this time.

"I-I can pr-romise I didn't, archmage," it attempted to get off the hook, but it was pointless.

"Hmph," the mage shook his head before turning around. "Well, I think you should help the woman with the daily duties,"

"Damn it!" the other cried in defeat. "But... I think there might be a little problem, yeah? Such as... my head still in here?"

"Don't fret," the mage shrugged before walking away. "He should be here soon,"

CH 7

_He?_

Who was that man referring to?

T tried to ask him, but he was already leaving the room, instructing her to take the head and follow. Being ordered around so much like this from a stranger was starting to lose its humour ridiculously fast. She removed the casing and brought the head into one hand and walked out, with it spouting something about being careful. Now she just stood in the still messy work area for the mage, who was back at his table, resuming whatever he was writing. Her mind began to wander again.

Just who was supposed to be coming? Was it another mage? Were they even human? She was beginning to question why she had so many questions. It was frustrating not having clear answers on anything. All she wanted was to be at home, letting the day waste away rather than being where she was. It was truly a bad choice to have left her room that morning...

**THUD.**

A dull but loud noise sounded from outside, and the head in her hand made a groan of annoyance. What were these strange occurrences? Then she saw a person's silhouette from one of the windows. Well, two of them after taking a proper look.

"Good grief," one of them seemingly scratched at its head. "Without it you just knock into just about anything,"

"Could ya make my body go in the direction it's supposed to, moron?!" the head was beginning to fidget.

Another head poked its way into the open doorway of the building, an aviator hat atop it. The man seemed surprised to hear the head from within.

"Ah, you're here already," the man moved fully into view, and with him he tugged a headless body that was cautiously padding at the walls. "Sorry about that, but it isn't easy moving this stupid thing around,"

"Stupid?" the head’s teeth were grinding now.

"Well, you are reduced to this after all," the other shrugged.

Then his eyes finally landed on T. Strange he did not notice a person literally holding the head he was speaking to. Though his cap perfectly shadowed his eyes, it was obvious he was eyeing her from head to toe, and he eventually stopped at the insignia emblazoned on the black cloak she was wearing. He too appeared just as perplexed at her presence as the head did.

"Err, archmage-?" he spoke up but was cut off instantly.

"No questions just reattach Shachi," he lifted the fountain pen before going back to work.

The man looked back at T helplessly before shrugging his shoulders in defeat before taking the head of 'Shachi', successfully reattaching it to the body. In the proper light she could tell that he indeed had ginger hair, and he was already stretching his body. He also made sure his head was in its proper place, confirming that it would not fall off if the sudden, stifling blue air had anything to say on the matter. Afterwards he threw his hands in the air as though he overcame a trial of sorts.

"Hallelujah!" he cheered. "I'm back in one piece!"

"You still have work,"

With that, the man physically seemed to deflate.

"You're almost there," the other gave a friendly pat right before Shachi shrugged it away.

"At least I'm not in that pedestal anymore..." he grumbled lowly before moving over to T, snatching the broom from her and quickly getting to the chore.

"That does not mean you are let off, you know," the apparent 'archmage' stood up and walked by her as he went outside the building, seeming to be fetching the other man.

T ran a hand over her face before stalking back to the storeroom in search of other cleaning apparatuses. It took the rest of the day just for the two, herself and Shachi, to finish cleaning the one room. It did not help having another hand as they did not know how the other operated, and they bumped into each other frequently. With each hour passing, she grew more and more irritated.

.

Several flames twitched back and forth to light the dark room. Night had fallen without anyone noticing. Shachi was on the floor snoring while the mage had returned to his scrolls. T was sitting cross-legged on the floor against a wall far from them, trying to piece together her thoughts. As expected, it proved a waste of time. It never worked, no matter how many times she tried. It was always better for her to not think on some things, sometimes things were finalised that way for her.

"Return to the room you left this morning," the mage was standing in front of her. He had moved so quietly that she could never have known he moved.

"No food?"

"Do not think we are at the same level here," he moved his head to the side as he looked down at her.

"Do you expect me to work without some way of keeping me alive?"

"Are you truly alive?"

This comment threw her off.

"You do not seem terribly upset at the threat of no sustenance," he crossed his arms, resting his chin on a raised finger. "Which makes me wonder about you,"

He had her with that. Just what claims did he have on her exactly. Perhaps he really did know about her and what happened to her. After all, even though he hardly spoke, it was his voice she heard that beckoned her to step foot in the forest. Or at least, she thought it was. She was beginning to hope it was, too.

"If you search enough, you can find the kitchen," he stated. "But do not bother tampering with anything. I will know,"

T wondered if he would have tortured her further by not giving any more information had she made a more predictable reaction. Like begging. It also made her wonder if she was even peculiar to him. Most people in her time labelled her as such if she got involved in compromising situations. Perhaps she was a new form of entertainment for him. After all, she was still 'alive'. She decided to let the matter rest for now before standing, walking over the sleeping man on the floor to begin locating said kitchen.

She chose to start with going down the hallway which led to the storeroom, but her foot caught in one of the loose floorboards, and with that she came crashing to the ground. Emphasis on the word _crashing_.

Ooze seeped freely from beneath her head where it had connected with the floor, and the mage stood wide-eyed behind her still body.

CH 8

The air was still that night. Every single night creature that made a sound could be easily heard without much trouble. There was hardly any light, the luminescence from various insects blinking every now and then. Only a few of the strange animals that lurked about during the day were up and about.

Inside the mage’s home could be described as still as the forest. At least if it were not for the sleeping man’s obnoxious snoring. It was the only sound in the room after that loud crash. It was as if a vase had been dropped with an intense force. Of course, what had broken was no vase.

It had been her.

The mage only remained rigid while he looked over the woman on the floor. Usually blood would have spilled from someone falling so har on the ground, but instead he could only see black glinting in the candlelight. He frowned to himself. Just what sort of trickery was at play here? He extended one hand and used the other to adjust the sleeve before flicking it once.

The candles in the hall burned to life instantly before calming down. He took one and placed it on the wooden floor, knowing well that there was no danger as he was conducting these actions. Just as he thought, it was not a trick on the eyes of red appearing black or some other thing. There was indeed a black substance beneath her face.

He was almost against disturbing the scene, as if some crime had taken place and it was necessary to preserve it. However, he knew he would get nowhere if he did not start inspecting, even if he did not understand anything just yet. He carefully placed a hand on her forearms and, with some caution involved, turned the unmoving body so it was facing upward. After all, he was not sure how to  _deal_  with something that was obviously not human.

And it was confirmed with what he saw of her face. It was broken and appeared hollow. A few shards fell into the ooze on the floorboards, and he wondered if some of the substance had managed to slip through. Would it stain? It would be unfortunate after the arduous work she put into cleaning.

He noted that when he tried to turn her, more of the stuff had spilled out of the apparent hollow in her head. Perhaps it was not as empty as he initially believed. He clicked open one of the containers attached to his belt and plucked out two latex gloves, pulling them on before touching the breaks around her face. The edges were not as sharp as he thought, and he even prodded a hand at the black substance.

It flowed like a liquid, but when he attempted to submerge his hand, there was a bit of resistance at first. Like slime, he raised some of the blackness out of the head, though the excess slipped back down. It was like playing with cake batter.

Then something happened quite suddenly. A hand shot up to grab at the one he was inspecting the black ooze with, the grip firm and bellicose. The mage did not dare to make a move, simply to see what would happen next. His eyes darted back to the substance in his hand and took note that there were eyes on it that were not there before. Several white, empty eyes looking hard at him, littering the entirety of the black ooze. Some had pupils, some had slits. Some did not even have pupils at all.

Not even one was closed.

He was forced to retreat his hand as her own shoved him away. The black ooze returned to its place as well as a strange black cube appeared behind the woman’s body. It seemed to increase in size as well, and it was enough to engulf the hallway, cutting the mage off from going forward once the body took refuge within it.

And everything was still again.

The mage remained on the floor, staring wide eyed for yet another time in his life at the scene before him. And for some reason, he was not even angry. Not a trace could be found. Only confusion.

Just what exactly did he let into home this time?

He breathed a heavy sigh and rubbed at the dark circles under his eyes with one of his hands, the other keeping him propped up on the floor. From the corner of his eye, he noticed something familiar. A white hat with various spots decorating the bottom half of it, but none on its bill. It must have fallen off as he was moving away, and limply took it from the floor as he got on his feet. He walked over Shachi and grabbed the nearest stool before returning to the barricaded hallway, sitting himself down with his arms propped up for his chin to rest.

With that, he proceeded to wait. Waiting for what his new worker had in store for him.

The hat was left aside for the time being.


	3. CH 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CH 9 is a bit short here, but there it is. Had school and exams, both being a block for writing. I will eventually try to get to the other three chapters (no art yet).

CH 9

He was at absolute peace. Well, that was not quite true. He was at peace enough to be elevated from his seat, chin nearly resting on his collar bone. It would certainly prove a problem for his neck soon enough. Then again, he had slept in worse positions and places including the floor, the roof, the prominent branches of trees. Even in small spaces.

Of course, none of them were intentional. It was still hard commanding the power he had. It was always a surprise why some people were drawn to him in the first place. It was madness. But of course, as those knowledgeable were aware, magical energies always congregated in some way. No matter how hard one tried to cloak themselves from the others. He did not know this at an early age, however. All he could remember were the emotions running high, the rouge spilled on pristine pavements and on his hands. Humanity was the strangest thing at the time.

But he came.

 _Yet still_ …

His eyes snapped open as fresh beads of sweat ran down to his chin. He looked around tiredly, noting that the black barrier was missing. He rubbed his eyes before he sensed something was off. A guardian was awake, and the culprit was still around.

With that, he stood up and made his way through the open doorway, his staff already finding its place in his hands. The mage did find it strange that none of them went off when the woman decided to waltz herself into his abode. So, what exactly was transpiring in the forest? Did it happen while he was asleep, or had it just begun?

He soon got his answer, finding a stone golem standing before some bizarre white creature. Its body was glinting from the morning sun and was as tall as the golem. It was akin to an octopus, though more grotesque and sporting several eyes, and it seemed to nearly split at the middle, the top and bottom sporting a sharp toothed mouth each. It was releasing chirps and screeches in the air as it shook near the woman. She did not look particularly pleased while Shachi cowered behind a nearby tree.

The mage was not too pleased himself. Just what in the world was happening here?

“This thing provoked me,” she answered without giving him the chance to ask. “I am not about to be smashed while in your place another time,”

“I tried to warn her, archmage!” the ginger man spoke up. “She still tried t’fight it!”

He only pointed to the side for safety to Shachi, which he quickly obeyed and returned indoors. His abilities seemed to be lacking. If she was aiming for mutiny this early, he did not mind just ending it all then and there.

“Oh?” he crossed his arms, as if scolding a child who did something wrong. “What if you provoked it first?”

A pause followed.

“I suppose I did step someplace,” she finally admitted after glancing off to the grass, but she snapped it back up quickly. “Except it instantly tried to harm me,”

“That is their job,” he gave a knowing smirk.

“It was just self-defence,”

“Self-defence of this scale?”

“You ask too much,” she shook her head in annoyance.

He took a glance at the creature she seemed to be the owner of, briefly wondering if she magical abilities as well. Though, he had witnessed her face smashing and dripping black blood onto his floor, so at the very least she was not up to the human standards of what was ‘normal’. Yet she had a heart. He supposed he could examine it once finished here, assuming it was still worth to examine it if she was dead.

“Call off your guardian,” he said clearly as the atmosphere became too stifling to bear. She glanced back at said being, appearing confused with his words for a moment.

“As long as you settle yours down,” she crossed her arms.

The mage gave a sigh and shook his head, letting a glowing hand wave up at the golem before him, effectively putting it back on duty. She watched as it remained at its place, but now in a harmless state. Despite not trusting her surroundings she stretched her palm outward and face up, sending the monster back into an enlarged black square cube. It seemed some real peace could finally make its way back now.

“Now what are you both doing outside?” he addressed his two ‘workers’.

“She wanted water or whatever,” Shachi gestured in exasperation at his last word.

“It’s nothing wrong,” she glared at the other, and he surprisingly shrunk back at her sharp words. “His place is a mess, and I couldn’t find anywhere inside to get water,”

“You could have woken me,” the mage pointed out.

“You were levitating,” the woman said flatly. “Would it be wise to bother that?”

She had a point. It did not change anything however; chaos arose while he was asleep. He then simply showed her the pitcher pump located to the back of the building, hidden behind one of the stone slabs. Shachi demonstrated the rest to her while the archmage returned inside, checking the rooms to see which they were cleaning this time, deciding on the kitchen. Some supplies were in there anyway.

Once they were finished there, he pulled her aside. T was confused at this, as she did not expect him to be sending more questions her way. After all, she was ‘the new maid’. But there they were, both sitting in the storage room she was trapped in, sitting on crates and Shachi already having left. Maybe they were finally going to have a solid conversation, and she could learn more on her current situation.

His grim face… suggested otherwise.


End file.
